Small Girl, Big City

It's my first overnight school trip, and we are in New York City. I prefer to call it the Glitter City, referencing the evening view of the world from the top of the Empire State Building. The Glitter City is a bustling hybrid. Old buildings, new buildings, silence, cacophony, selflessness, selfishness, dark, bright. The contrasts continue on.
I've never possessed a desire to make one of these many apartment buildings home. I love the natural grass and wild woodlands and fleeting critters and thunderous mountains and wide fields. I could never leave the country land.
Admittedly, this city does have its appeal. There's a constant buzz of activity. Everything is plentiful and within reach. Cultures are squashed together yet retain their unique personalities.
I have to leave any minute now. The ferry to the esteemed Lady Liberty should be docking soon. Enjoy Spring Break (and, if you're on the East coast, enjoy the snow)!

Winter

I love the cold. I love bundling up, wrapping myself in old, fuzzy blankets with engaging patterns. I love the rush indoors, and the sweet taste of chapstick on my lips. I love the little white flakes twirling and twisting in the air. I love when the world turns white. I love when I can barely see down the road. I love the rare warm days. I love the laughter echoing through high schools when flakes tumble down outside the windows. I love the long sleeves and knitted caps. I like the holidays and new beginnings. I love kissing cold metal. I love the reminders flashing across television screens, and the dancing around the house in pajamas when the announcement comes. I love the old movies played on the television. I love the bountiful tables and grins all around. I love the wrappings and trappings. I love the old songs, and the new songs, and the new spins on old songs.

I love the fuzzy socks in a rainbow of color. I love burying my head beneath a mountain of blankets. I love pulling the comforters from the tops of linen closets. I love snuggling my head into a stack of warm, clean laundry. I love the chocolate my mother always buys. I love the jackets and coats and vests. I love the scarves. I love the stacks of books with words not yet read. I love the little brothers sneaking in at early hours, begging to be told tales of manger scenes and heroes and dragons.

I love my dog's prancing through freshly fallen snow. I love the shrieks of children weaving through the drifts on bright sleds. I love the rush to the bus stop. I love sitting just above the bus engine and relishing in the heat. I love the view from the windows of the mountains on the horizon. I love the traffic slowing. I love the slippery slope of my driveway. I love leaving a bowl out on the porch, then tugging it back inside and eating the snow inside.

I love the strings of golden lights. I love the crackling fire. I love winter camp. I love eating ice cream when it's snowing outside. I love Jack Frost. I love his sketches on the world, and his daggers hanging from the roof.

I love winter.